If I Am Not a Born Poet

If I Am Not A Born Poet If i am not a born poet Then who really are As I see table spoons To seal rice and curry From the far away moon While i can’t from a dish That kept ready on table Full of boneless salmon fish I see also the forks As naughty as spoons To cut spaghetti in air To make it fall again Upon my shampooed hair If i am not a born poet Then who really are As i take my pet lizard To the field to eat grass While bring lions home Thinking them stupid ass. However what i do And what i write That does not matter I am a born poet For the reason wonder That my mind holds great.